Raymond drew from within his doublet the half ring he had always carried about with him, and placed it upon the finger of his love.  Joan, on her side, drew from her neck a black agate heart she had always worn there, and gave it to Raymond, who put it upon the silver cord which had formerly supported his circlet of the double ring.

“So long as I live that heart shall hang there,” he said.  “Never believe that I am dead until thou seest the heart brought thee by another.  While I live I part not with it.”

“Nor I with thy ring,” answered Joan, proudly turning her hand about till the firelight flashed upon it.

And then they drew closer together, and whispered together, as lovers love to do, of the golden future lying before them; and Raymond told of his mother and her dying words, and his love, in spite of all that had passed there, for the old house of Basildene, and asked Joan if they two together would be strong enough to remove the curse which had been cast over the place by the evil deeds of its present owners.

“Methinks thou couldst well do that thyself, my faithful knight,” answered Joan, with a great light in her eyes; “for methinks all evil must fly thy presence, as night flies from the beams of day.  Art thou not pledged to a high and holy service? and hast thou not proved ere now how nobly thou canst keep that pledge?”

At that moment John stirred in his sleep and opened his eyes.  There was in them that slightly bewildered look that comes when the mind has been very far away in some distant dreamland, and where the weakened faculties have hardly the strength to reassert themselves.

“Joan,” he said —­ “Joan, art thou there? art thou safe?”

She rose and bent over him smilingly.

“Here by thy side, good John, and perfectly safe.  Where should I be?”

“And Raymond too?”

“Raymond too.  What ails thee, John, that thou art so troubled?”

He smiled slightly as he looked round more himself.

“It must have been a dream, but it was a strangely vivid one.  Belike it was our talk of a short while back; for I thought thou wast fleeing from the malice of the Sanghurst, and that Raymond was in his power, awaiting his malignant rage and vengeance.  I know not how it would have ended —­ I was glad to wake.  I fear me, sweet Joan, that thou wilt yet have a hard battle ere thou canst cast loose from the toil spread for thee by yon bad man.”

Joan threw back her head with a queenly gesture.

“Fear not for me, kind John, for now I am no longer alone to fight my battle.  I have Raymond for my faithful knight and champion.  Raymond and I have plighted our troth this very day.  Let Peter Sanghurst do his worst; it will take a stronger hand than his to sunder love like ours!”

John’s pale face kindled with sympathy and satisfaction.  He looked from one to the other and held out his thin hands.